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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26096989">not borrowed, not blue: just old &amp; new</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/oakest/pseuds/oakest'>oakest</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hannibal (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, No Spoilers, Post-Fall (Hannibal), Short &amp; Sweet, but the hurt is all in the past, dont be shy put some more domesticity</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 03:22:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>707</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26096989</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/oakest/pseuds/oakest</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The nightmares are old. Hannibal’s comfort is new.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>108</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>not borrowed, not blue: just old &amp; new</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>just dipping my toes in the hannigram waters, don’t mind me</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hannibal has no delusions about his own selfishness when it comes to Will Graham.</p><p>He is perfectly aware that the sharp pang of possessiveness currently gnawing around the insides of his rib cage is <em>exceptionally</em> selfish; he was arrogant to think that Will wouldn't have nightmares anymore. Logically, he recognizes that the nightmares are a residue from Will's past life, and not a reflection on the life Hannibal has built with him. But, as usual, Hannibal's mind is stubbornly refusing to be logical in regards to his feelings for Will.</p><p>Hannibal swallows his self-consciousness and focuses on the task at hand: tucking in the corners of a fresh fitted sheet. The soft cotton stretches and the smell of detergent gives Hannibal some comfort, but it still doesn't overpower the scent of Will's sweat. Although Hannibal moved the bedding to the hamper and Will is sitting across the room from him, the scent is as overpowering as it was to wake up to. While he smooths out the next sheet, Hannibal steals a glance at Will. He's sitting on the chair in the corner of their bedroom, curled into himself and clutching a mug of hot tea (Will wanted coffee, citing the early morning hour, but Hannibal has no intention of starting their day until Will gains a few more hours of sleep, so he vetoed caffeine). Hannibal takes note of Will's grey shirt and boxers, both still visibly damp with sweat, and decides he'll have to ensure Will changes before getting into the fresh bedding.</p><p>Will is so lost in his own thoughts that he doesn't register that Hannibal is in front of him until soft hands are languidly guiding him to his feet. The warmth of his tea mug is slipped out of his hand. He stares blankly, starting to regain awareness of his limbs, but the connection between his brain and body is still too thin to do much of anything.</p><p>Hannibal allows Will to take his time, making his every movement slow, gentle, and easily seen. If his fingers are cold as they slide underneath the hem of Will's shirt, Will makes no response. Hannibal peels the sweaty clothes away from damp skin as if he's delicately unwinding Will from plastic wrap. Just as Will starts to feel a chill on his bare, clammy skin, Hannibal is taking a towel slung over his shoulder and bundling him in it. Will sighs, closing his eyes and leaning into the soft, fuzzy press of Hannibal wiping him down. Even in hiding, Hannibal's taste remains the same, and Will smiles, fairly certain that the fabric of this towel is something imported and ridiculously expensive.</p><p>Will can't see it, eyes being closed and all, but when Hannibal notices Will's mouth twitching into a smile, he radiates pure pride. He licks his lips, not bothering to hide the comfortable smile forming there to match Will's. Satisfied that Will is starting to emerge from within himself, and confidence-boosted by the knowledge that it was his care pulling Will back down, Hannibal finally speaks.</p><p>“Hold the towel, Will. I'll be right back with some clothes.” He strokes his knuckle along Will's cheek as he says it, and Will leans into the touch as he instantly obeys and grips the towel around him. Hannibal's heart beats like an animal daring to break out of its cage. Even as he bows his head and pulls away to go to Will's dresser, he feels his heart thump and push towards where Will stands.</p><p>Will is more lucid now, and as Hannibal returns to dress him, he's overtaken by the feel of Hannibal's hands across his skin. He obediently lets each foot be raised delicately in Hannibal's hand while the man threads his boxers around his ankles. When Hannibal deliberately allows his knuckles to drag the entire way up Will's legs, it occurs to him that this is exactly how Hannibal wants him to feel. Overwhelmed and close and intimate.</p><p>Hannibal’s head is bowed in front of him. Will inhales deeply. Hannibal smells like cedar and fresh rain.</p><p>The world blurs around Will, and all that's left is the forest of Hannibal. The canopy of trees reaches high, presses close. And Will is safe here.</p>
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